


The End of an Era

by estychan



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, S3 spoilers, Sherlock Season 3 Spoilers, The Sign of Three Spoilers, janlock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-07 22:08:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estychan/pseuds/estychan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Janine was unlike any woman Sherlock had ever met. She was sharp and witty, much like himself, and perhaps that was why they got on so well. It isn't long before Sherlock realizes he needs Janine for more practical reasons...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic takes place right after the ending of The Sign of Three. I couldn't help but ship Sherlock with Janine this entire episode because there is some sort of chemistry there. This may end up multi-chapter if enough people like it. We'll see what happens.

The air was cool and full of music from inside the building as Sherlock stepped outside, drawing his coat around himself. The wedding party was in full swing, the guests dancing inside amongst the colored lights and pounding music. Sherlock paused and turned to give the venue one last look, his brow furrowed a small frown on his face. John and Mary were in there with the guests, laughing together and having a great time before they needed to go pack for their honeymoon. Both of them were no doubt nervous and yet excited about the newfound knowledge of Mary's pregnancy, but Sherlock was confident about one thing: he wasn't going to be in the picture for much longer. Once that child was born, all of their attention would be on taking care of him or her, not on spending time with him. 

John had told him that his wedding would not change anything between them, that he would still be helping Sherlock on cases... but that was before he had discovered he was going to be a father. Fatherhood was not exactly condusive for spending long hours out and about, chasing criminals. Sherlock sighed quietly and turned on his heel, walking away from the charming, stone building and in the direction of the street so that he could catch a taxi back to Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson's words from early that morning drifted through his mind: _It's the end of an era._  

"Sherlock, wait!"

He slowed to a stop when he heard the female voice and the unmistakable sound of heels clacking quickly against the pavement and he looked over his shoulder, seeing the familiar, silky brown hair and lilac dress of his companion for the duration of the wedding. She stopped trying to catch up to him once she saw that he was no longer walking, inhaling deeply and letting it out slowly. 

"Jogging in heels is not fun," Janine mused breathlessly, bending over slightly to take off her pumps and relieve some of the pressure. She straightened back up and looked up at Sherlock, the twinkle of amusement vanishing from her eyes the moment she saw the look in his eyes. "Is everything okay? I saw you leave, and... well, leaving a wedding early without some sort of announcement isn't exactly normal, is it?"

Sherlock was silent for a minute before answering. "I am no longer needed. I was here because John invited me to be his best man and I could not refuse. My speech is done; the first dance is done and over with. Everything went off without a hitch -- well, mostly -- so there is nothing more for me to do here." He swallowed heavily, a movement that was barely perceptible in the darkness of the slightly chilly, spring evening. "You should go back inside, Janine. Your dance partner is surely wondering where you are, and you both seemed to be having a good time. He likes you; I could tell."

Janine sighed. "Sherlock, I only found someone else to dance with because you were busy talking to John and Mary and I didn't want to interrupt. You and I were supposed to dance together tonight, at least once, so I figured I would find someone else to dance with for a bit until you were done talking." She took a small step closer to him and set a hand on his shoulder, a little smile on her face.

"Is that why you're leaving early? You thought I didn't want to dance with you? Because I _do_ want to dance with you, Sherlock. Very much." 

"I told you why I'm leaving."

"You're fibbing. I don't think you would leave without saying goodbye to John and Mary unless there was something wrong that you didn't want them to see." When Sherlock didn't say anything, Janine continued.

"Look... I know it's none of my business. I do. I just want you to know that I'm willing to listen if you want to talk to someone. John and Mary are going to be preoccupied packing for their honeymoon and such, so if you ever needed company, you know how to contact me."

"Do I?"

Janine slipped a small piece of paper into Sherlock's coat pocket, smiling coyly at him. "Yes. You do." With that, she raised up on her toes and placed a quick kiss on Sherlock's cheek before turning and making her way back inside. With a faint smile on his face, Sherlock continued in the opposite direction and eventually disappeared from sight.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock takes on a grueling case mere weeks after the Watsons' wedding and soon has an unexpected guest pay him a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go: chapter 2!!! I have decided that this story will take place between the wedding and the events of His Last Vow, but it will also continue through to the end of His Last Vow (and potentially beyond, if I feel up to it), so THERE WILL BE SPOILERS. Many spoilers. 
> 
> As always, feedback is much appreciated and I hope you all enjoy the new chapter.

One month had passed since the wedding, and Sherlock was getting stir-crazy. There hadn't been a single interesting case to speak of in weeks, and he was so bored that he sincerely believed the particular extent of his boredom should be illegal. John and Mary were back from their honeymoon -- they had been for about a week -- but they seemed quite content with their domestic life in the suburbs and couldn't be bothered with keeping him entertained. He had expected that would happen, of course: after the marriage, John would spend every waking moment with his wife and not be bothered to spend time with him anymore.

 

 Sherlock opened his eyes slightly when he heard his mobile ringing on the coffee table and he turned his head to look at it, only vaguely interested. He contemplated letting it ring, but what if it was John? Or Lestrade with a case? He reached out and grabbed the phone, checking the caller I.D. and sighing heavily when he saw who it really was. Hesitating, he answered.

 "What do you want, Mycroft? I'm busy."

 "My sources tell me otherwise."

 "Well, your sources are wrong."

 "Moping around is hardly productive, brother mine." There was a brief pause, and when the oily voice resumed, Sherlock could hear the hint of a smirk on his brother's face. "I did tell you not to get too involved. John has moved on with his life; he has a wife and a child on the way. Surely you didn't actually think he would still be running around London solving crimes with you just like 'the good old days'?" 

 Sherlock's jaw tensed, as did his grip on the phone. "Is there a point to this phone call, _brother dear_ , or did you call just to aggravate me?"

 "I'm merely checking in. I haven't heard from you since the wedding."

 "Well, I'm fine. Oh, someone is downstairs at the door. A client, perhaps. Goodbye, Mycroft." Before Mycroft had the chance to say anything else, Sherlock hung up and put his mobile back on the coffee table, perhaps a little harder than necessary. He was beyond sick of Mycroft butting into his business all the time. Sherlock lay on the couch doing very little of anything for another half hour or so before he heard Mrs. Hudson calling up the stairs to him. 

 "Sherlock! There's someone down here to see you!"

 Sherlock rolled his eyes and sat up lazily, glaring at the stairwell as though it had horrendously offended him.

 "Send them up then," he shouted back down to the landlady. He heard muffled talking downstairs and a minute later, there were footsteps ascending to his flat. A wrinkled woman ( _late fifties, married, no children_ , Sherlock observed) in business attire with blond hair swept up neatly in a bun stepped over the threshold, her surprisingly sharp eyes fixed upon him.

 "Mr. Holmes, I trust?"

 "Brilliant deduction. And, you are?"

 "Elizabeth Smallwood. I was hoping you might be able to help me," she answered, pulling up a chair and sitting across from the sofa that Sherlock was currently stretched out on. When Sherlock said nothing and only stared at her expectantly, she continued.

 "I need you to acquire some old letters for me. I normally would not ask something of you of this particular nature, but I fear I may not have a choice. If these letters ever got out... Well. I shudder to think what would happen with my career."

 "Boring."

 "Excuse me?"

 "I said, 'boring.' What exactly is in these letters that is so detrimental to you, Lady Smallwood?"

 The distinguished woman bristled, hands tightening atop her lap, which Sherlock very astutely noticed. "Their contents are of no consequence to you. All you need to know is that I have been threatened by someone who intends to use them against me, as blackmail... unless I do what he asks."

 "Who has them?" Sherlock asked, marginally intrigued. For a woman such as Lady Smallwood to come to a private detective for help, whatever was in those letters had to be incredibly important for her to be so concerned of them being in someone else's possession.

 "Magnussen is his name. Charles Augustus Magnussen," she stated grimly. "Do you know of him?"

 "The name does sound familiar. He does something in the media, doesn't he?"

 "News. Well... that's what he calls it. Half of the things he publishes in his papers ruins lives, and I will not allow myself to become one of the victims of his slander. Will you help me, Mr. Holmes? Those letters must be recovered, at all costs."

 Sherlock considered it for a few minutes before getting up off the sofa in one swift movement and crossing to the window, looking out over the street in thought. Gradually, a small grin slid across his face. "I'll do it."

 

****************

 Charles Augustus Magnussen's information empire was vast; more vast than Sherlock had realized. The man had the resources and the motivation to bring whole countries to their knees if it suited him to do so. It turned Sherlock's stomach. About halfway through reading an email from his informant (a master computer hacker and one who found it all too easy to hack into any database and resource that had information on Magnussen) that contained some important information regarding what he was up against, his thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Hudson calling up the stairs to him.

 "There is a young lady here to see you," she shouted up to him, an air of surprise in her wispy voice. "She says her name is Janine."

 Sherlock's eyes widened slightly. He hadn't been in contact with Janine since the wedding, so why could she possibly be coming to see him? Curious, he closed his laptop and got to his feet, straightening out his dressing gown as he made his way to the stairs and started down them. He peered around the corner and sure enough, there was Janine. She was wearing a flowery skirt and a simple, pink blouse that emphasized her figure, her hair falling in long, dark waves around her pretty face. Once she saw Sherlock, a grin spread across her face and she fixed her purse over her right shoulder.

 "Just wake up, did you?" she teased, ascending the bottom four steps before pausing with her hand on the railing.

 "Of course not," Sherlock defended, quirking a brow at Janine when she came even further up the stairs. "There is hardly any reason to get dressed in one's own flat when company isn't expected. Speaking of which, why are you here?"

 "I was in the neighborhood and thought I would drop by. I've meant to visit a few times, but you never called me after that night so I figured you weren't interested in chatting."

 "I have been far too busy for social calls," Sherlock stated. "And... I may also have lost your number."

 "I see. So... are you busy now?" Janine tilted her head to the side questioningly, bringing her free hand up to absently toy with a lock of her own hair. "Because if you're not, I was hoping we might go out for a bit of lunch and do some catching-up."

 Sherlock considered it for a minute, his pale eyes locked with Janine's dark-brown ones. Perhaps it was about time he put some manner of food in his system. He had eaten hardly anything for two days and the hunger was starting to gnaw at his concentration now and then.

 "Lunch would be fine, I suppose. Come upstairs and give me a few minutes to get dressed, then we can go." Sherlock turned and made his way back into his flat, hearing Janine following him up the stairs right as he entered his bedroom and closed the door behind him for privacy. Staying true to his word, it took Sherlock only a few minutes to get properly dressed and meet Janine in the living room. She seemed to be familiarizing herself with the various items in the living room, a tiny smile on her face as she was given a glimpse into Sherlock's private life. 

 "Have you actually read all of these books?" she asked him, trailing her fingers over the binding of one as she turned her head to look at him.

 "I refer to them now and then for cases and such," he replied.

 "I certainly hope that's the only time you refer to them. I would have to question your taste in literature if you told me you read them for pleasure." Noting the vaguely annoyed expression on Sherlock's face, Janine laughed lightly and moved away from the bookshelf, walking toward the door. "Come on then. There's a nice little cafe just a few blocks from here."

 The cafe was very quaint and cozy, the quiet hum of other patrons buzzing through the air around them as they were seated at their table. The air was rich with the smell of coffee and freshly-baked pastries: a smell that Sherlock found oddly comforting in this unfamiliar situation he now found himself in. It wasn't every day that he went out to lunch with a woman as attractive as Janine, much less at said woman's request. He picked up his menu and read it with little interest, his pale eyes flicking upward every few seconds to watch Janine do the same. At one point, their eyes met when he did so and he tensed momentarily.

 "You don't have to look so scared," Janine said. "It's only lunch." Her tone was light and playful, and it brought a small smirk to the corner of Sherlock's mouth.

 "So..." Sherlock cleared his throat, sitting up straight and setting his menu down. "What was the real reason for your visit today? You couldn't have traveled halfway across London just to ask if I wanted to go out to eat with you."

 "I told you, I was in the area and I thought I would stop off and say hello. Is that so strange?" Janine fixed him with a warm smile, clasping her hands loosely under her chin and propping her elbows up on the edge of the table. "Truth be told, I've been thinking about you a lot. You fascinate me."

 "You find me fascinating, so you asked me out to have lunch with you," Sherlock reiterated as though weighing the words on his tongue. "I can't say I understand. A lot of people find me interesting, but they don't all ask me out to eat. There is something else."

 Janine rolled her eyes. "You are impossible, you know that?"

 "So I've been told."

 "Impossible, frustrating... and very attractive."

 "...Sorry?"

 "Why don't you show me what you can do?" When Sherlock looked at her with obvious confusion, Janine beamed at him. "There are a lot of people in here, Sherlock. Why not do some deductions while we wait for someone to come take our order?"

 Sherlock actually took great pleasure in that idea. He enjoyed showing off, and now there was a pretty woman sitting across from him asking him to do so. How could he possibly refuse? "Alright. Pick someone for me."

 Janine turned slightly in her seat and glanced discreetly around the small cafe, scanning the crowd and picking someone at random. "That man there, with the red tie," she finally decided, nodding briefly in the man's direction because pointing would have been too obvious.

 Sherlock turned his head to look at the man in question, taking in his general appearance and also the young woman sitting across from him. Within seconds, he had something.

 "He is a businessman, approximately forty years of age; unhappily married and recently returned home from somewhere with a hot climate," Sherlock observed, listing off his observations as though they were some sort of grocery list. Janine glanced over at the man again, seeming to spot everything Sherlock had picked out but not having as much success.

 "Businessman, I can see; age, I can see. How do you know he is unhappily married and that he was abroad until recently?" she asked, intrigued.

 "I don't _know_ ; I merely observed. He has a tan, which could mean that he used a sun bed, but the tan does not go above his wrists, which makes foreign travel the more likely answer."

 "And the marriage?"

 "There is a patch of skin on his ring finger that is considerably paler in hue than the rest of his hand, which means that he was wearing his wedding ring while abroad but removed it for the sake of not arousing public scrutiny whilst meeting with his mistress, who has no ring on her finger and therefore could not be mistaken for his wife if he were to keep the ring on."

 Janine's eyebrows raised with surprise. "His _mistress_?" She regarded the pretty young woman seated across from the man with disbelief, seeming visibly disgusted. "I thought that was his daughter or something. She looks half his age!"

 "She is his secretary. If she were his daughter, she would not be running her foot up the inside of his calf like that: teasing and coquettish, like she is trying to lure him to her flat for a couple of hours before they both need to go to work. Her clothing is nice but not a designer brand, going by the look of things, and yet the necklace at her throat is notably more expensive than the rest of her wardrobe and certainly out of her budget, which means it was given to her as a gift by her wealthy employer."

 "Her sugardaddy."

 "Yes."

 "Wow. I'm impressed," Janine breathed with a dreamy sort of smile on her face.

 "It was nothing. Anyway... here comes the waitress now."

 Lunch lasted longer than Sherlock anticipated, but he was surprised by how pleasant it was. Janine was very easy to talk to, among other things. She was sharp and witty, much like Sherlock himself; perhaps that was why they got on so well. After paying the bill, the two of them left the cafe and stood near the edge of the sidewalk while Sherlock tried hailing a cab. He blinked and looked down at Janine when he felt her take hold of his left arm as it rested at his side.

 "I would like to do this again," she said to him, hugging his arm and smiling sweetly at him.

 "I wouldn't protest the idea," Sherlock admitted, looking down at the attractive woman beside him. "I will need your number for that, though." He took out his mobile and input Janine's number as she recited it to him, reading it back to her to ensure he had it right before stowing his phone back in his coat pocket. 

 It wasn't more than five minutes before a cab pulled up and they got into the backseat. Sherlock told the cabbie to bring them back to Baker Street, but Janine interjected after uttering a quiet curse under her breath.

 "I forgot, I left something at work the other day and I was going to go pick it up this morning, but I didn't end up going. I should probably do that now, while my boss is still in."

 "Alright. I'll come with you and catch another cab back then." Sherlock had a general idea of what Janine did for work -- some sort of clerical job -- but he didn't know her place of employment. Now, he couldn't help but let his curiosity get the better of him.

 

When the cab brought them to a large glass-front building, something clicked in Sherlock's brain when he realized where they were: it was the news building that Charles Augustus Magnussen worked out of. He had seen a picture of it in the email he had been reading that morning from his informant. Sherlock watched silently as Janine paid the fare, the wheels in his brilliant mind turning. Janine was Magnussen's personal assistant: he was sure of it. If that was the case, then perhaps she was the perfect means through which to find out more about him and what he was planning.

He got out of the cab with Janine and looked up at the impressive building for a minute before glancing down at her. "I'll text you later."

"I'm going to hold you to that, this time." Janine grinned and stood on her tiptoes, catching Sherlock by surprise when she grazed her lips briefly against his. It could hardly be called a kiss, but it was close enough to one to bring a faint pink hue to Sherlock's cheeks. "Talk to you later, handsome." With that, Janine headed off into the building and left a stunned Sherlock standing outside.

He had just found his way in, and he would have been a fool to let the opportunity pass him by.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> UPDATE 1/9/2014: Due to the amount of positive feedback on this story that I have already received, I have decided that I will be building onto this story and adding more chapters in the future. I am very busy between work and school, however, so an update may be a while away yet, but I will certainly do my best. There is more planning to do, and an underlying plot to work out to keep the story going, but I have a good feeling about it. Thank you all very much for your feedback and lovely comments, and please keep your eyes open for an update!!


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